


Flirting with Darkness

by RedemptionByFire (steelneena)



Category: Twin Peaks
Genre: AU - Dale is a vampire but it's canon'verse, F/M, some blood, some references to MLMT
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-06 07:56:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12207033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelneena/pseuds/RedemptionByFire
Summary: A short collection of prompts for @protecthewitchSemi in celebration of the Month of Halloween.





	Flirting with Darkness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [protecthewitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/protecthewitch/gifts).



> I have never, ever ever thought that I would write something like this for Twin Peaks. Much to my surprise, I actually enjoyed it a lot. It was a challenge to fit the AU element into the canon universe. 
> 
> Some dialogue from Episode 6 of season 1.

It’d always been easier for Dale Cooper to bear the weight of his very existence by working for the FBI. When it had _happened_ while he was in college (a dark night, walking back alone from a concert that he hadn’t particularly desired to attend in the first place, a feeling of absolute dread and then...stumbling upon a dead body, closely followed by arms grasping him from behind and the sharp piercing sting at his neck... the slowing throb of his pulse as he struggled in the hold of the killer, the bleary glaze over the world when he awoke, the copper tang of blood in his mouth, feeling very, very acutely different...) it had been difficult to subsist, for one, because he lacked a source of sustenance and for two, because he wasn’t doing anything to make up for it, and he _so_ desperately wanted to make up for it.

At the FBI he had ready access to people who weren’t exactly in need of their blood anymore, and at the same time he was contributing to the betterment of society. For the most part, it worked. He revisited the Tibetan belief systems and meditation. He tried to find the optimism in each day (how relieved he’d been that intolerance of the sun was a misnomer for _aversion_ to it) as he always had before and enjoyed the freedom it gave him with his diet - consisting of copious amounts of “jelly” filled donuts and his still beloved coffee - as well as extra time to work on cases as he had very little need for sleep.

Then had come his experience with Windom and Caroline Earle. His unfortunate situation, as he preferred to think of it, had left him flying between lovers, terrified to grow close, terrified of losing himself to the overpowering lust. In the heat of the moment, things became unpredictable, even uncontrollable and after a misfortune late in his college years he’d shied away from romantic relationships entirely. He was infected, unclean and wanted nothing more than to keep others from his same misfortune. He needed to be strong enough, and for a short while, Caroline, with all she’d been through, seemed like she might be the one that he could trust to help him endure, for his own sanity if nothing else.

But Windom was smarter than Dale had anticipated and the well placed knife slowed him down. Caroline was already lost, and in his weakened state, Dale found himself powerless. It had been a near thing, and he counted his blessings that he’d trusted Albert with his condition though he hadn’t told anyone else.

He could have saved her, Dale thought sometimes, could have saved her and condemned her in one fell swoop, but he had resisted, feeble from the wound, despite the heady stench of blood as it drained from the laceration in Caroline’s abdomen. The simultaneous sensation of hunger and nausea hadn’t been a pleasant one when he was alive, and Dale found it even less so in his intermediary state.  

Caroline had died, and he continued on, despite it all. Physically, he recovered under Albert’s watchful and discreet eye, but mentally Dale was in worse shape than he had ever been. All of that had been four years previous. He’d lost himself in the work, in the humdrum and the darkness of the joint DEA operation and other, top secret assignments. When he’d finally returned to the Blue Rose Task Force, he’d felt himself on an upswing. Things were going okay. He was making a difference again. The unsolvable cases and the insanity of Windom Earle were pushed from the fore of his mind into a deep dark corner where he kept the knowledge that he couldn’t rationalize. The work reinvigorated him, allowed him to refocus, to emerge from the darkness, the darkness that he both hated and cleaved to all the same; it was in his very nature, and the more he attempted to deny it, the more power it had over him.

Thus, his current situation. Upon entering Twin Peaks, Dale had felt in that base, alien portion of his brain the darkness lying beneath the facade. There was some greater darkness at work. He love the town, loved the seeming simplicity of their living, and the genuine nature of the people. Dale had always been a terrible liar, but he had to learn how after the _incident_. The people of Twin Peaks had plenty of secrets, but were honest, generally, and good natured. The same dichotomy that lived in him also lived in the town and his soul, ravaged as he felt it was, seemed to have found a home.

And then came Audrey Horne. He’d warned her off him already, more than once, despite the fact that he found her an intelligent, attractive and overall desirable woman. And she was a woman, that he couldn’t rationalize away. In comparison to himself, her darkness was hardly a shadow marring the porcelain of her being, yet it seemed that somehow, she saw the world the same way he did, understood the darkness, even though it was terrifying to her. Of all things, he hadn’t foreseen her sitting, _flushed,_ and invitingly nude under the sheets of his bed.

“Don’t make me leave. Please don’t make me leave,”

“Audrey, you’re a high school girl. I’m an agent of the FBI,” He was sitting on the bed, facing the wall, facing away from her, away from the sight of her soft, pink flesh, more exposed than he’d ever seen her. When she’d first turned on the light and he caught sight of her, it had nearly driven him mad. He felt the slow slide of the extra set of  incisors as they descended from their typical position. The feeling never got any less unusual, causing a full body shiver as he adjusted, felt the rising clawing sensation in his stomach. And she was _so_ flushed. Nervous or aroused, it didn’t make a difference, he could smell the push of blood close beneath the layers of her perfect skin and he felt sick. Facing the wall only helped so much.

“So do you want me to leave or what?” She asked, her tone a little more than crestfallen. _You don’t know what it is you’re asking of me,_ he thought to himself, willing the desires, conflicting as they were, to go away.

“What I want and what I need are two different things, Audrey,” He paused, forcing his voice to even out. “When a man joins the Bureau he takes an oath to uphold certain values. Values that he's sworn to live by,” Some lies were close enough to the truth that he could bring himself to believe them, allowing him to lie convincingly. “This is wrong, Audrey. We both know it,” His firm tone wavered, and he held his breath, waiting for her to call his bluff.

“But don't you like me?” Her question threw him completely.

“I like you very much. You're beautiful, intelligent, desirable. Everything a man wants in his life,” The truths spilled from his lips without hesitation. He wanted her, desperately, and her closeness, the intimacy of the setting was starting to get to him. Dale forced himself to look at her, to say the words that he knew needed to be said if any shred of goodness were to remain between them. Audrey, glowing with hope, didn’t shy from his gaze. “But what you need right now, more than anything, is a friend. Someone who will listen,”

She swallowed, and he saw the hope dissipate to a low simmer, not entirely gone despite his dismissal. She _knew_ , and it was enough for her. The knot in his stomach worsened. “Friends, huh?”

Distance. He needed distance. Audrey was still eyeing him like it was she who wanted to eat him, instead of the other way around. “I'm gonna go and get us two malts and some fries. Then you can tell me all your troubles,” As soon as the words left his mouth, Dale was kicking himself. The goal was to get farther away from her, not closer, but he couldn’t bring himself to renege on the offer.  
  
“That could take all night,”

“The night is young. Now, I'm going to get the food, and you're going to get dressed,”

There was a playful glint in her eyes. “I can't tell you all my secrets,”

The seriousness of the situation finally overtook him. “Secrets are dangerous things,” _And I carry the biggest, most dangerous one of all._

“Do you have any?”

“No,” He lied. It was the one convincing lie he could tell. Dale had conditioned it into himself, above all things. They exchanged brief words about Laura and then he was out the door. The moment it closed behind him, he sagged against the wall, letting the poisonous feelings drain away, focusing his breathing, willing himself out of the imminent panic which threatened to well up within him at even the barest distance from her.

Dale took his time. He forewent the elevator for the three flights of stairs, pointedly not thinking of Audrey’s stunning smile, or her sparkling eyes. And anything but the blush of her cheeks. The torture of her was agonizing. The portion of his brain that remained rational reminded him that the lawman in him would have turned her down exactly the same way, if for different and more honourable reasons, but the primal part of him, that blackened section of his soul, knew that it was little more than the thin veneer of humanity he had left which kept him in those moments from engaging with her intimately.

He ordered the food and thought through his plan for the evening; how and where he would sit when nearby her, contingency plans just in case things strayed into dangerous territory again and the like. As Dale turned the thoughts over in his mind, he found himself once more hovering on the edge of the same question he’d contemplated with morbid curiosity ever since the _incident._ Could he die? And, if so, what would it take?

He hadn’t quite lived long enough to find himself consciously desiring the release of death, but the dark cloud of the future weighed heavily on his mind. When things started to grow dire for him, when he would have to move on, unaging as he now was, or when time passed him by and he grew lonely, (for as much as Dale had attempted to isolate himself from the world out of fear of what he was, he _needed_ and craved human connection just as much) what would he do? What would he do if brought to that breaking point? Would he lose the last shred of his humanity and subject someone like Audrey (he shuddered at the thought) to his affliction? Or would he discover a way to end it all, when working for the betterment of humanity was no longer enough without the people he cared for most?

When the shakes and fries were brought out to him, Dale shook away the dark thoughts and again, made his way up the three flights of stairs. He knocked on the door to his room and announce his presence before entering. Dale caught sight of her immediately.

Audrey had positioned herself on the bed in such a way that she would be the first thing he saw when he entered. Additionally, her idea of ‘getting dressed’ wasn’t exactly the same as his, and he felt his chest tightening again. She was wearing his shirt, and what appeared to be nothing else. Cautiously he shut the door behind him and set the food down on the bookcase.

“Audrey,” The fleeting control Dale had regained during his jaunt to the dining area was in shambles. He turned from her purposefully as his breaths grew ragged and his composure shattered as he heard the rustle of sheets and the soft padding footfalls across the floor.

“You do have secrets Agent Cooper,” Audrey half whispered. The sultry quality of her tone was entirely natural. As she drew nearer, and Dale’s senses heightened again, he could make out the quickening of her pulse, and, to his embarrassment, her raw desire. “I know you were trying to misdirect me, admitting to how you feel but telling me that you couldn’t...wouldn’t do anything about it,” Despite the self-assured nature of her words, Audrey’s inexperience shone through and Dale wanted nothing more than to disappear entirely, so that he wouldn’t have to acknowledge the truth in her words, and the desire in his own heart, whispering intently that Audrey would understand. That Audrey could handle him, if he could only manage to handle himself. That, of course, was the crux of the problem.

Dale simply couldn’t manage to handle himself. He’d cut himself off for so long that the very thought of intimacy, even on a simply emotional level, was almost too much for him to control.

The second set of incisors had slid back out the moment he’d entered the room, and with the last shreds of his control crumbling as she reached out her hand towards him, Dale couldn’t stop himself from flinching.

Out of surprise alone, Audrey recoiled. “Agent Cooper?”

“Audrey, it’s not what you think,” _What in the hell_ am _I thinking?_ “I...I can’t do this. It’s...it’s not that I don’t want to. Really. It’s...it’s so far from that,” The pounding of her heart was so near he could imagine that his own pulse had returned.

“Then tell me,” She urged him, and he felt her reach out again, the sweet agony of the veins in her wrist pulsing closer and closer to him. One thin fingered hand gripped his arm gently and the twofold lust sent a heady rush through him in so many directions that for a moment his senses were confused and he almost _almost_ relaxed into her touch. “I want to listen to your troubles too,”

The sincerity of her words made him _ache_. She wanted all of him, it seemed, physically and mentally, and he though he knew that he couldn’t return the sentiment, he did. At first Dale thought he might cry, but something in him hardened. Without warning he turned to face her. The look on his face must have been terrible because Audrey, though she didn’t move from where she stood, took a sharp breath.

“It’s better that you don’t know,”

Audrey’s baleful gaze turned fierce. “Like hell,” She said in a low, dangerous tone. “Friendship works two ways,”

Dale’s laugh was a miserable one and for the first time, he saw fear in Audrey’s eyes. “Oh Audrey, if only you knew,” Her breathing was speeding up too, and he could feel the extra rush of blood. Despite it all, he fought the urge to step towards her, though it took physical effort. He watched the thoughts and emotions play out across her face, but the outcome was lost to him.

Audrey took a breath and before he could react she was within an inch of him, his legs hit against the wall as she advanced on him, pinning him up with her proximity until he had nowhere else to go. Wild determination. That was the emotion her features had settled into, and the lust was suddenly tempered by the terror of Audrey, close to him, close enough to him that he might-

“Please stop,” He shuddered, not wholly from fear or desire.

“Tell me. Tell my why. Help me understand. You...you want this too, I can see it,” A plaintive note rang in her voice, and Dale closed his eyes against the tenderness of her care. “What’s got you so afraid? What is it about me that-”

“It’s not about you,” He regretted the sentence as soon as he’d uttered it, and shut his eyes tighter.

“It sure seems like it,”

One warm finger touched his cheek, sending a minute spasm through him, and Dale gasped at the acute pleasure. In the same moment, much to Dale’s confusion, Audrey stilled and he felt an arrhythmia mar the rhythm of her heartbeat.

“Oh my god,” She breathed.

His eyes flew open, and he took in her shocked stare. Suddenly all too self conscious, and all other emotions overcome with the thrilling terror of being discovered, Dale shut his mouth firmly.

“Oh my god,” This time, when Audrey spoke, it wasn’t with breathless disbelief but with sickening realization. She blinked several times but remained frozen, just as was Dale, with his jaw clamped shut. They were both breathing hard. It was as if all the air had gone from the room utterly. The look in her eyes was as shrill as an alarm bell, sending anxiety rippling through him like the shuddering agony of any blade. “You...you’re-you’re…” Audrey took several shuddering breaths, her chest heaving, before she swallowed them down and manage the composure Dale so desperately desired.

A tentative hand brushed against his lips, parting them, the warm tip of her finger running across the exposed incisor, and then trailing down to where his carotid once thrummed with life. Her eyes were still wide, but he felt like the deer in headlights to her oncoming car, unsure of whether he would make it out of the encounter intact.

“Were you always like this, or did something happen?” She asked, miraculously, and he folded, sliding down the wall to the ground, hiding his face from her with his arms.

“I was attacked,” He managed after a moment. “It was a long time ago now,”

“So you’re like, what? A vampire?”

He shuddered.

“I guess that’s a yes, huh,”

He peaked out from behind the shelter of his arms and saw that Audrey had seated herself, legs tucked to the side, across from him a short distance. His shirt hung loose on her frame, exposing the tops of her breasts to the open air.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. It’s got to be such a lonely life…” She mused, sighing, and Dale felt tears well up in his eyes. He’d felt the whole range of emotion in less than an hour and his head was starting to ache. “Do you want to talk about it?” Audrey asked in that same gentle, even tone.

He looked up finally, allowing her to see his face tracked with tears, his eyes still wide. She looked so calm. Dale didn’t understand how she could look at him, how she could sit so comfortably by him when she _knew_ what he was. In the midst of his thoughts, he forgot to respond entirely.

“I guess that’s a no. That’s okay too. Sometimes, even if you can’t talk about it, at least for me, it’s just nice to know that someone is there to listen,”

“I didn’t want to hurt you. That’s all. I don’t… I can’t trust myself, like this, with anyone,” His voice was shaky, and Dale found himself wondering how a discussion of her problems had so thoroughly flip flopped in the other direction.

“Does no one else know?” There was no pity in Audrey’s tone, not even a hint, just stark concern.

“Albert knows. It was...practical,”

Audrey nodded decisively, and was silent. She shifted a bit, the only sign of her discomfort, before deciding on her next words. “How...how do you _perceive_ me? And other people, I mean,”

The question caught Dale off his guard. It was clinical, an out for him to regain his control. “In certain situations, especially with heightened emotions, it can become difficult to remain collected. I have more practice in some than others. Chasing perpetrators. Engaging in physical combat if necessary. Drawing my weapon. Those things...are conditioned into me. But…”

“It’s the interpersonal relationships you don’t know how to handle,” She finished for him. Audrey sat up, and her energy changed, as if she was suddenly infused with motivation, though towards what end Dale couldn’t begin to fathom. She stood and reached a hand towards him.

He watched her, but didn’t move.

“Take my hand, Agent Cooper,” She directed. When he still didn’t respond, she said it again. “Take my hand,”

Warily, Dale did as Audrey asked. Her palm was warm and the grasp of her slim fingers was firm but soft. With a quiet strength, she helped him to his feet and led him to the bed.

“Sit down,”

Implicitly, he obeyed and she clambered onto the mattress next to him. The feeling he’d been fighting off was growing again, in the pit of his stomach, and despite the fact that it was impossible to miss his momentary tremors, Audrey payed them no heed.

“I have some questions, and I hope you’ll answer them for me, Agent Cooper,”

Hearing his title grounded him and Dale nodded his assent.

“How is a vampire created?”

“A potential victim is bitten and drained to the lowest point possible without causing death. Then the attacker feeds the victim it’s own blood,”

“Okay, so pretty typically par for the course, you know, as far as the stories go,” She nodded to herself. “And you basically live off of it?”

“Yes. I’m around a lot of corpses and there are other ways, being in the FBI that…” He shuddered in revulsion of himself and didn’t elaborate. Audrey too, shuddered.

“That can’t be fun. I get the picture. But you still feel the need for...fresh blood?” Dale wondered if Audrey had noticed the fact that he avoided saying the words that would define what he was - vampire in particular, and to a less extent blood. He wondered if she kept saying it because she knew it made him uncomfortable, but that thought was quickly chased from his mind in favour of the idea that she was saying it to make it real for herself. Audrey wasn’t so cruel as to taunt him purposefully.

“Yes,”

“Are you ever sated?”

“I’ve never...No,”

“Have you ever had fresh blood?”

“It was an accident,” Dale’s voice broke at the admission. “I stopped myself before it got too far, but I don’t remember how…”

The delicate skin above Audrey’s brow furrowed and she looked earnestly at Dale, who looked anywhere but at her.

“Did you ever think maybe if the other person knew, it might be easier?” She asked, thoughtfully, her hand easing across the coverlet towards his leg, stopping just shy. “You wouldn’t need to hide it, and you could focus better on containing it instead,”

Dale blanched. “I couldn’t-”

“You won’t know unless you try. And you care about me,” She made the statement without any hint of uncertainty. “I know, I’m willing - more than willing - and I don’t believe for a minute that you could hurt me,”

“I might not want to, but that wouldn’t stop me,” The darkness of his tone was met by the light in her eyes.

“Are you so sure?” She leaned in without warning, stopping short from his lips, their noses brushing. “Tell me what you feel,”

“Your breath on my skin. The steady tempo of your pulse. Your…”

“Say it,”

“Your desire,”

Soft lips pressed against his in one gentle, unobtrusive kiss. When she pulled away, it was all Dale could do to stop from sobbing. Audrey brought both hands up to his face, tangling one into his hair and pressing the other against his cheek before leaning in to kiss him chastely again. That time, he responded to the kiss, if tentatively. But it was a step forward. Without thinking, his hands found the slope of her waist and rested there. Her pulse jumped, but not with fear or shock. For the first time since he’d become the way he was, Dale allowed himself to relax into the moment, into the first vestiges of their intimacy. Audrey pressed in deeper and Dale responded, ignoring the burning of fire in his lifeless veins when she arched into him.

When she nipped at his lip, he was surprised, but attempted to refocus, to remain with it enough to follow her, as he allowed her take her enthusiastic, exploratory lead. Her hands trailed over him so quickly that he was constantly reevaluating her, and though her pulse was elevated, it was more difficult to notice the constant thrumming when her hands never stopped moving. Dale responded, still careful not to get to carried away. Audrey more than made up for it. But when she exposed her throat, and gave a low moan, he panicked. The throb of her pulse was visible, quick but steady and Dale’s eyes and attention were riveted to the spot. He made to draw back but her hands grabbed at him more firmly, pulling him towards her and with a sudden shock of determination, Dale pressed his lips to the spot firmly. The desire to bite down was tempered only by the sharp sting of her fingernails against him, rooting him to the moment. He left a trail of reddening marks down the languid line of her neck, following the artery down until he was mouthing at the base of her throat and his control was bordering on nonexistent. Only at that point did Dale finally pull back. Audrey’s pupils were blown, and she quickly filled the new space between them with her hands, pushing the coat from his shoulders and rushing to undo the buttons that separated her from his bare skin.

Suddenly feeling daring, Dale let his hand trail up the smooth skin of her thigh and slip beneath the shirttails until his fingers where inches from her apex. Audrey keened and the tightening of her grip on him busted two buttons off, sending them flying across the room. He inched his fingers closer as her hands finally met his bare chest but underestimated the wave of decidedly non-sexual desire that washed over him when he felt the first pulse of her desire. She was scrabbling to touch him, but Dale pulled away with effort, clenching and his hands against his thighs.

From his peripherals, Dale could see that Audrey was suspended in motion, torn, apparently between reaching out to him and remaining where she was. He prayed to whatever might be listening that she would just leave and he could remain in the same, desolate, lonely existence, without fearing for anyone in his proximity.

His admittedly melodramatic desire went unfulfilled, much to his selfish relief as she gravitated towards him, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. The thin barrier that his shirt provided was little consolation.

“I trust you,”

The weight of her hand resting on him strengthened with her words, and she said nothing more, waiting for his response. It didn’t come.

“I want you,”

Her other hand joined the first and her arms slid around him, her body pressing into his back and then, Audrey rested her head against his shoulder. Her presence was overwhelming and utterly overpowered any willpower he’d managed to dredge up. Dale broke, turning in her hold and practically lunging towards Audrey, pressing her down, into the mattress. He lay between her legs, and she tangled her hands in his hair as he continued kissing from the spot just below her ear down the line of her jaw.

Short, quick breaths escaped her slightly parted lips, and as she drew a foot up around his leg, hooking him and drawing him nearer, she also slid a hand down, suddenly tentative, towards the front of his pants. Dale had all but forgotten her inexperience in his battle to control the urge to sink his teeth down where he planted the most tender of kisses, but her hesitant touch was too great of a reminder.

“Audrey,” He cautioned, for the first time concerned for a reason other than the imminent danger he was putting her in.

“I want this,” The look in her eyes was determined, as was her next touch and in a few short moments he was unclothed except for the unbuttoned shirt. Dale allowed it to slid from his shoulders with a little assistance from Audrey, and then, uncaring that he was ruining a second shirt in the process, pulled open the one Audrey wore, exposing her completely before him. He’d been right - she’d put on nothing underneath. They were infinitely close; each breath she took allowed for the gentle drag of her nipples on his chest and even the slight roundness of her stomach against his. Audrey looked at him openly, trustingly, but when he reached down and guided himself into her, his eyes closing at the ecstasy, mouth falling open, he could feel each fragile capillary at her center, flooding with hot, sweet blood and…

A small, high pitched noise met his ears, like the keening of a wounded animal, the awareness came rushing back and Dale wrenched himself away from Audrey, flying off of her, off the bed, to stand looking on in horror where she had her hand clasped against her neck.

“Oh, God… Oh God no, no, I didn’t, I- Audrey, I-”

Dale, feeling the anguish, the disgust welling up into panic, was nearly hyperventilating as he watched Audrey’s hand come away red, the perfect porcelain of her neck stained crimson.

“I...I don’t think it’s bad. You broke the skin. That’s all. It’s not bad,” She was standing, walking towards him, but it only got worse as the stench of copper radiated from her, and he felt his vision darken, his head pounding in time with her heart as her life continued to pump out of the two, tiny holes he’d left on her neck.

“Don’t. Audrey please, please…” He begged but she only came closer. About a foot away, Audrey held out her hand, Snow White to his trembling deer, placating and gentle.

“It’s okay. Really. I wouldn’t...I wouldn’t want it to go to waste,” She shrugged a little. The trickling flow had stymied at the source, but it still gleamed, wet and sticky on her hand. Desperate, feeling utterly depraved, he gave in, licking at her fingers until there was hardly a trace left. Riveted, his eyes found her throat, and when Audrey lifted her chin in response, Dale didn’t hesitate.  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't resist. Sorry. Not Sorry.


End file.
